


Mischief Night

by Decepticonsensual



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 05:26:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decepticonsensual/pseuds/Decepticonsensual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Knock Out has a Halloween mishap.  Breakdown helps make it up to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mischief Night

“Ugh!  Revolting skinjobs!  No respect for a work of automotive art.  Will you look at what they did to my finish?  I’m going to stink of Earth avians’ foul little reproductive sacs for a week.”

Breakdown didn’t bother to stifle the laugh, but it was brief, and his smile was sympathetic as he took in the sight of his mate, plastered with toilet paper, dripping egg yolk onto the deck.  “Told ya, Doc.  Bad idea going out tonight.  The humans go crazy.”

“Well, I wasn’t about to miss the –”  Knock Out sketched air quotes with his claws – “’Super-Scary Spooky Speed Run’.  Though I’ll admit, when I went down there, I was expecting something a little more death-defying than a bunch of rustbuckets decked out to look like monsters and bizarre gourds with optics.  Apparently it’s something the humans do to raise money to cure diseases.  Or maybe inflict diseases on their enemies, I’m not sure.  At any rate, I got disqualified for not dressing myself up as some kind of decorative vegetable matter, and then I parked down a side street for a quick nap to soothe my disappointment, and _this_ happened!”

“Come on.”  Breakdown stood with a stretch.  “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Private washracks were one of the perks of the CMO’s quarters – they existed technically more for sterility than for privacy, but Knock Out and Breakdown had welcomed them all the same.  Knock Out arched his back under the warm stream of water as Breakdown moved the sponge over his back in wide, lulling circles.  “ _Mmmm._ Four million years we’ve known each other, and I swear, you just keep getting better at that.”  His engine purred as Breakdown slowly worked his way down his legs, paying careful attention to every tread of the tires at Knock Out’s ankles.  Knock Out sighed blissfully at the feel of gravel and sticky wads of paper alike dislodging from his treads, and flat-out moaned when Breakdown gave one tire a playful spin.

“Feeling better, Doc?”

“ _Worlds_ better.  Come here, you.”  Hooking a finger under Breakdown’s collar fairing, Knock Out drew him to his feet, standing on tiptoe to kiss Breakdown, their skin slick and heated from the water.

“Want a wash of your own?”  Knock Out broke away and waggled the sponge.

“Later.  Right now, there’s something else I want.”  With a growl, Breakdown lifted his partner and pressed him against the streaming wall.  Knock Out chuckled into his mouth, his claws drawing teasing patterns over Breakdown’s plating, and then whimpered and squirmed when Breakdown tilted his head to trace the outline of a headlight with his glossa.

“Mmm, you always taste so good, Doc,” he murmured, pinning Knock Out’s hips as he slid lower, brushing kisses over his abdomen.  When he got to Knock Out’s panel, Breakdown gave it a lingering lick, prompting Knock Out to groan and throw a leg over Breakdown’s shoulder.  “Well,” Breakdown amended, trying to hide a grin, “today you taste a little bit like eggs –”

Knock Out smacked him with the sponge.


End file.
